So this morning I had a loop recorder put in my chest to watch my heart rate. The procedure went well.
I was super impressed by the pre-op team. One nurse in particular was really good- she was all about people checking my ID band and made sure the antibiotics got started on time. The PACU, not so much. Somehow the IV never got removed before I was discharged. They called 2 hours later to see if the IV was still in my arm. It is.

You can tell I’m really anxious about this.

Obligatory Wrist Band Photo.

Hair Style is very important for days like today.

If I were to ask the why questions:

- why was the IV left in?
Because the patient was dressed and we didn't see it
- why was the pt dressed?
Because they were d/c quickly
- why was the pt d/c quickly?
Because they were freaking out
- why was the pt freaking out?
Because the drugs used weren't right and they were alone

This ain't so bad.

Drugs:

- why weren't the drugs not right?
Because we didn't know the last time the pt had surgery she got anxious
- why didnt we know that?
because the patient didn't realize there was a correlation.
- Why didn't we fix the drugs?
Because their oxygen was low
-why was the oxygen low?
Because the drugs weren't right
-why didn't we fix the drugs?
we cant dc people if we give them more drugs
- why did they have to be dc?
Because they were anxious... And we needed the bed.

I had this done on Ekat’s Birthday and she brought me presents. Such a sweetheart. <3.

Unlike most twenty-three-year-old sorority alumnae, I receive my monthly subscription of Cosmo with a side of insurance rejections: such is the life of a coed who lost the genetic lottery. Thankfully, I earned an undergraduate degree in Health Administration and specialize in reminding health care organizations of their contractual obligations. Unfortunately the majority of Americans have not had this training while the red tape surrounding the insurance system is dense and misleading (1). But that’s to be expected; even the laws put in place to protect patient rights are incomprehensible. A Journal of General Internal Medicine report found that legislation set to protect patient rights is comprehensible to people with a reading level equivalent to that of an Associate Degree (2). To put this in perspective, approximately 70% of the United States population over the age of 25 can’t understand the laws which protect their health care rights (3). This ambiguity has created a market of confused individuals who are easily melded into padding the bottom line for both insurance companies and for-profit health care advocates.

According to the California Nurses Association, 1 in 5 claims are rejected by private insurance companies each year (4). These rejections can occur before or after care is received and come in two classes: quantitative and subjective. The first genre consists of clerical errors and miscoding issues, both of which are easily corrected to the subscribers benefit (so long as the subscriber catches the error, knows their benefits, and appeals the rejection in a timely manner). The second groups of denials are difficult to negotiate as they result the insurance companies definition of preexisting conditions, medical necessity and experimental procedures (5).

Comedian Stephen Colbert illustrated the satirical nature of this licensure in his October 29, 2009 introduction in which he asked “What qualifies as a preexisting condition? … If you have to ask, you probably have one! (6)” Take for example Stephanie, a 24 year old from Oakland, California, who opted into a single-payer insurance policy while she was studying for her MCATs. She went to the doctor for an annual exam and was diagnosed with bronchitis. This diagnosis led her insurance company to do a five-year review of her medical records in which they found evidence of a past chest infection, providing them with grounds to refuse payment for her care. She never thought that her former chest cold could be a preexisting condition, yet due to her insurance company’s interpretation, she was forced to pay out of pocket (7). Obviously the insurance industry has to stack the deck in their favor; they are for-profit companies and deserve to be compensated for their sizeable gamble on individuals, but the high profits which result from rising premiums and unclear coverage denials is unethical (8).

This no-man’s land between insurers and individuals has led to a job market in patient advocacy. Many advocacy groups are either non-profit or governmental agencies; indeed, most states have patient advocacy bureaus to help their residents navigate the difficult legislature governing their care (9). Unfortunately these bureaus, like most social service sectors, are overworked and underpaid, forcing states to mandate who qualifies for advocacy (10). This urges patients with financial means to employ private, for-profit advocacy agencies to help them navigate the intricacies of the health care system, adding additional cost to their health care. Furthermore, the for-profit nature of these companies caters to healthy individuals, and some refuse to work for people with preexisting conditions, leaving those who desperately need support without recourse (11).

Einstein once said “make everything as simple as it has to be, but no simpler.” If this principle governed the success of Time’s “Person of the Century,” perhaps we should consider applying his wisdom to our current health care crisis (13). Simplicity is indeed the key to our success. Currently, health care reform bills have provisions to subsidize and reward the utilization of electronic medical records. Unfortunately, these electronic medical records are not currently at a developmental level which would supply security or uniformity. Yet these systems have great promise, indeed, if they are streamlined, continuity and accuracy of care would be vastly improved (14). A standardized record system would incite uniform regulations across insurers, helping to hold the insurance system accountable in a laissez-faire manner which increases its political viability. Furthermore, the clarity this system provides would help subscribers to understand the reasoning behind decisions which were formerly illogical. Unfortunately this goal is several years in the offing and we cannot wait to provide culturally relevant data to patients.

I recently attended a Comparative Effectiveness Research seminar in which Dr. Robert Epstein was panel member; I recognized his name, but couldn’t immediately place him (12). Halfway through the panel, it hit me - Epstein’s signature is affixed to letters I receive from Medco Health Solutions when my prescription drug coverage changes. In my world, Epstein is the prescription-drug-coverage-devil. But as I sat listening to his speech on personalized medicine, his congenial nature and “carpe diem” philosophy made me realize that the man behind the signature is human and truly cares for his subscriber’s futures.

Insurance companies are made up of educated people who, like Epstein, want what’s best for their subscribers. Admittedly, the more effective treatments are, the less they have to pay in the future. Yet these companies are woefully unsuccessful and demonized by the lay public in their attempts at efficiency. Likewise, the current push for health care reform is misunderstood and chaos abounds. If you want proof that a number of Americans do not understand the goals of health reform, look no further than “end of life counseling” being touted as “death panels.” Something has been lost in translation. If our goal is efficient, culturally competent care, the information delivery system must be clarified and translated via an appropriate advocate.

Note: For this piece I was recognized in NCHE's Annual Scholarship competition.

[[ No, it won't always go the way it should, but I know the heart of life is good -- JM ]]

Some amazing things have been happening. No, I didn’t get into grad school (one can hope….), but I did get a huge opportunity to create a public health reporting system for TLH. I get figure out what holes are missing in the statistical correlations between HIV/AIDS and STD's and create supplemental questionnaires about behaviors which might effect the results. I’m so excited.

[[ Thank you for making me struggle, Tell me the world ain't mine -- I'm a miracle baby -- I refuse to lose -- Tell me what do you see when you look at me -- On a mission to be what I'm destined to be – M/TI ]]

Secondly, I became a site administrator for sfhomeless.net, a totally awesome wiki targeted at players in the homeless community

[[ Give me your eyes for just one second -- Give me your eyes so I can see -- Everything that I keep missing -- Give me your love for humanity -- Give me your arms for the broken hearted -- Ones that are far beyond my reach -- Give me your heart for the ones forgotten -- Give me your eyes so I can see -- BH ]]

Ok and finally… I Ran. On the verge of becoming trite, "I can’t believe it." I ran an 11.5 minute mile today. I haven’t run a mile since, well, yesterday (15 mins), but before that I haven’t run in probably a year. I couldn’t believe I didn’t pass out! I finally feel like I’m getting control of my life. This week I grew up. No, really. For the first time in my life, I knew, on my own, when I couldn’t handle that whole fainting thing and I actually asked for help from a qualified medical professionals (ie the emergency room). Not only that, when they brushed me off, I went back and got hyphy with them. And it got results. It was completely unprecedented by my previous actions and for that I am amazed with myself. I wasn’t independent and at the same time I was my own advocate. Seriously people, be amazed.

[[ No more stress, now I'm straight -- Now I get it now I take -- Time to think, Before I make mistakes -- That part of me left yesterday -- The heart of me is strong today -- No regrets I'm blessed to say -- The old me dead and gone away -- TI/JT ]]

As always, I never cease to freak doctors out. When I was at Stanfurd this past week, I had the misfortune of passing out as I left cardiology. After passing out I, of course, tried to escape and consequently hit my head on a tree. Then THIRTY doctors RAN at me. With a crash cart. In the rain. It was ridiculous—I think all the interns wanted me to die. You should have seen how crestfallen they were when I didn’t have to be shocked. (more…)

Correction:

I’ve finally lost the “concrete diver” part of the moniker.

Having to take a defibrulator everywhere with you is kinda stressful...

As most of you know, last Friday’s visit to the Emergency led to a full week in the Cardiac ICU. It was grand fun. While I was there I got chased down by nurses, went through four roommates, heard eight code blues, got kissed by a Berkeley emeriti, and picked up an orderly. Good times.

Note the boxes. They hellof abused me!

Frank was a pretty cool friend 🙂

I was tested to the EXTREME—we had constant monitors, echos, ekgs, CTs, blood, a few hot doctors and a few ugly ones, and finally the tilt-test. The tilt test is what kept me there for EVER, and all I know is it was a success- my HR jumped so high they decided that shocking my ass back to life was a bad idea, skipped the end, and went straight to diagnosis.

That's my heart-- how awesome is that?!?!

Apparently I have Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome-- I’m a POT. Basically, my heart rate jumps from a nice, normal 60 BPM, to something like, oh, 190+ when I stand up. This is where all that insane energy comes from, if I’m not using energy, I’m dead. My life suddenly makes sense.

I tell you, abused!

So no, I am not Amy Winehouse, though the quote concerning her from WWTDD is still appropriate: “When you’re 2{1}-years-old, and you’re in the hospital this often, and you’re not a cage fighter or black market mercenary, something is up. You should get arrested just for that.” We're gonna hope that the drugs will make this a little less accurate...

My room with a view-- you could see the sunset over the bay from it!

A special thanks to my loves for coming to visit me and bring me food and basically making a week in the hospital possible. Really, I couldn’t have done it without you.

As previously stated, holidays with me are never dull. New Years was no exception. It started off quietly enough- a lil church, a lil skiing, but all hell broke loose eleven hours and twenty three minutes into the new year. I was skiing along nicely when suddenly a snowboarder hit me. I tried to carve to the right but to no avail- I ran smack dab into the middle of a HUGE tree.

The Tree.

The Kid. His name is Sam, how ironic.

If I hadn’t been wearing my helmet I’d be dead, as my eye attests to, and as it turns out I comminuted my femur- that means it's broken in so many places they stop counting.

After the ski-patrol guy determined that I wasn’t faking the pain and couldn’t ski to the bottom of the hill they put me in a ‘scoop’ backboard which means that they assembled it around me in a snow bank since they couldn’t move my leg from its bent position. They had to pick me up three times, and let me tell you I screamed bloody murder each time. I finally got to the bottom of the hill where they cut off my five-day-old-686-snowboarding pants, gave me some morphine and straightened out my bent leg. Let me tell you, it is exactly like the movies-bone popping, screaming, and really hot ski patrollers 😉

My eye. Before it turned black.

Inside the snow-mo.

After enduring a hour ride to the nearest hospital, ten hours in ER, two catheters, ruination of my supergirl stuff, breakage of my camera, and really unresponsive nurses- they finally operated. 4 am and I had a brand-new-titanium-filled-femur.

A lil break...

Rod and screws

My Butt. Well Thigh. But really close to my butt.

My Knee.

But my story isn’t over yet. According to my doctor breaking your femur is the most painful thing you can possibly do. Additionally, as each femur is responsible for 20% of the hemoglobin in your blood, I was in trouble. At least all those donations paid off. What didn’t pay off was the nursing staff in a small Podunk town- the nurse who gave me my transfusion had a MPH but didn’t wash his hands after touching blood and checked my pulse with his thumb. I thought he was going to kill me- which his counterparts had almost done by not reading my allergy bracelet making me swell up to Pumpkin Size

Looks like cool-aid!

A-. Thank you very much.

Thankfully he didn't kill me, and I finally got my fever down under 100 on Friday and got to go home. The only thing left is to finish up the anti-blood-clotting shots I have to give myself

A shot.

Ouch!

Oh, and if you ever end up in the hospital don’t eat the food- it’ll kill you.

The Food, Sam, Me, and a Black-Eye

I might not get to come back in the spring- how sad would that be? But at least I'll have company my sister's boyfriend just broke his femur today- six days after I broke mine- what are the odds? I really appreciate all the phone calls, comments, and cards- they make me feel super!